


Fairy Dust

by Jaded



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Fairies, Fairy Godmother AU, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 18:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11949942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaded/pseuds/Jaded
Summary: Orphaned at six, Cassian Andor has only known struggle and poverty. He wants to break free from this, but jumping classes on Fest is no easy feat…unless you have your very own fairy godmother.Enter Jyn Erso: Fairy Godmother in Training.A fairy godmother AU, told in nonlinear parts.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of ficlets based on a fairy godmother AU that someone suggested to me on Tumblr. Sections are based often times on prompts or questions sent in, and through that I've sorta woven a story. Originally published in parts on Tumblr.
> 
> There is also a [moodboard](http://operaticspacetrash.tumblr.com/post/160751250681/rebelcaptain-fairy-godmother-au-requested-and) that accompanies this series of stories.

Orphaned at six, Cassian Andor has only known struggle and poverty since his parents passed away. Fighting just to survive, he scraps his way into adulthood, working the fields in his birth country of Fest. As he grows into a man, he learns that the way to the sort of comfort and security that he never had as a child is through wealth, and that on Fest the only way to obtain that is to enter into the aristocratic class. But that is no easy feat…unless you have your very own fairy godmother.

  
Enter Jyn Erso: Fairy Godmother in Training.

 

  
Sent down to Fest to work her magic for Cassian, she surprises him one day by introducing herself to him in a stable. Finding it terribly hard to converse with him in fairy form, she transforms into a flesh and blood woman, and offers her magic to assist him in obtaining his dream.

 

  
The plan is to make Cassian look and act like a gentleman–and through that, find himself an aristocratic wife during the season’s balls. But even with a fairy godmother, it’s not easy, not when Cassian finds himself arguing with Jyn constantly–about his choice in cravats, about how he should seduce the ladies at court, about the length of his hair! They argue so much that Cassian misses the first two balls of the season–but they get their act together in time to be ready for two small ones and the royal ball where the princess herself will be in attendance.

 

  
But something funny has happened: during his “training” with Jyn, Cassian’s learned a thing or two about himself. He’s learned that money and a title won’t make him happy because the problems of the people–his people–don’t simply come from a lack of riches but from the oppression of a small minority on the larger majority, and the way to enact change is not to become one of them but to fight the systems that leave the power in the hands of an oligarchy bent on crushing those beneath them. And the other thing Cassian’s learned is this: the opposite of love has never been hate–it’s indifference, and he finds out the hard way that the only woman he’s not indifferent to is…Jyn.

 

  
And even though the princess is intrigued and smitten with him, in a way no other man has managed, Cassian excuses himself and runs back to his hovel to find Jyn.

 

  
“What are you doing here?” she asks, irritated. “The ball’s barely started! How are you supposed to get your happy ending if you don’t actually talk to another woman?”

 

  
He grasps her by the hands, surprising her. Her hair is loose on her shoulders, and she’s dressed more simply in a muslin dress instead of the finery of her fairy wear. He feels tongue tied but is able to at least manage this much: “I don’t want a happy ending, Jyn! I want you!”

 

  
And maybe it’s magic or maybe just good luck, but it turns out, she’s in love with him, too.


	2. Three kisses that didn't happen and one that did

The first time they are interrupted, it’s the goat’s fault. They are in the stable and she’s trying to teach him to dance properly.

 

  
“Can’t you use some magic and teach me how?” Cassian grouses. “We don’t have time for this!”   


 

Jyn prods him with her wand but otherwise ignores his comments as she tries to correct his posture and arm position. She’s so close that she can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with nerves when they are flush together, chest to chest. He smells of hay and clean water; she smells like honey and clover and sweet like fairy dust. All argument dies on his lips as she guides his steps, and when she reminds him that he needs to be the one leading, he leans in, staring at her mouth, and Jyn feels her eyes fall closed.   


 

But then Cilla the goat kicks over a bucket of water and Jyn and Cassian spring apart.   


 

The second time they almost kiss, she’s curious about human machines and is is poking around the thresher. When she gets caught and is almost mangled, Cassian rushes to her aid and pulls her to safety. Wrapped up in his arms, she wants to kiss him–out of thanks, out of gratitude, out of attraction–but is interrupted when Baze appears in a cloud of smoke and pulls her toward him to make sure she’s okay. (Apparently there’s a fairy panic button).   


 

The third, fourth, and fifth time they almost kiss (it’s happening more and more often, this strange pull between them), it’s those pesky other humans who keep interrupting them, which results in Jyn transforming back into a fairy, which leaves Cassian to explain to his employers or friends why he’s always covered in this strange golden dust and why his cheeks are always so bright red when they find him (”You should really wear a hat in the fields, Andor, if this keeps up.”)

 

+

 

“Courtly kisses,” Cassian says suddenly, hanging up his velvet frock coat on a chair. He brushes the fabric with his hand, and pulls it away nervously. The air in his shack tastes damp and stifling suddenly.   


 

“What’s that?” Jyn asks. She looks up and flutters over to his shoulder, because even though she has remained mostly in human form, she still moves like fairy folk sometimes. She scratches her hair and the tight bun barely moves.   


 

“Do I need to know how to do those?” he asks awkwardly. “To practice that for when I am at court?”   


 

“Kisses on the hand and cheek?” Jyn says, then hums, “I suppose so, yes.”   


 

“And maybe a little more,” Cassian says. “If it goes so far. That’s the ideal, isn’t it?”   


 

Jyn laughs, the sound like silver and stardust. “What, you’ve never kissed another person before?” she says, surprised.   


 

“No,” Cassian says defensively. “I have. But kissing a princess is different than kissing the baker’s daughter, isn’t it?”    


 

“Is it? Seems like lips are lips, whoever the person on the other end.”   


 

“I don’t know if I agree,” he says, reaching out and touching the sleeve of her dress, feeling bold. “It seems important whose lips they are.”   


 

Jyn’s breath seems to hitch, and she looks up at him, her green eyes searching his like she’s seeing him with human eyes instead of fairy ones for the very first time. He doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s doing it anyway. She can always say no, smack him in the head with her wand and magic the knowledge into him, and she’s ready to step back, but she draws closer, the fabric of her dress crinkling between his fingers.   


 

“So what first?” she says at last.   


 

“A kiss on the hand?” he says a she draws back and offers out her hand, wrist limp but arm straight and true. He bows and places a soft kiss to her skin, his mouth cotton dry. “And now on the cheek?”   


 

“Yes,” she says, mouth red and rounded as the words spill out, and Cassian feels his heart trip in his own chest and has to focus to aim true to find her pale cheek.   


 

“How was that?” he asks, pulling away, watching the tilt of her head and the set of her mouth as her tongue flickers out and wets her own lips. A breeze blows through the window, the smell of hay and sunshine washing out the heat of the afternoon that has stuck to the walls. But then maybe that’s not it. Maybe it’s not the wind that makes Cassian feel that way. 

 

Maybe it’s magic. Maybe it’s Jyn.   


 

“Good,” she says carefully. “And?”   


 

“And?” he echoes.   


 

“What’s next?”   


 

“If the lady in question acquiesces to more you mean?” he says, swallowing hard.   


 

“If that’s how you want to put it.”   


 

“A kiss on the lips.”   


 

“Yes. But a kiss to a lady.” Jyn reaches out, and a curl of her hair drifts across her cheek, brown and soft and shiny. Her hands find his back, palms splaying against his spine. He wonders if she’ll give him more direction, but the warmth of her against him seems direction enough, and he rests a hand against the curve of her hip, the other reaching for the cheek he just kissed.   


 

“Jyn,” he says and that is all he manages before the space between them grows smaller and smaller and they are touching, the press of her mouth against his spilling all the secrets of her life and her kingdom of magic into him. She breaks for a moment to breathe, and his name slips out just as her lips find his again.   


 

Jyn is here as his fairy godmother. Here to grant his truest wish. But Cassian doesn’t know what that is anymore and yet, he does.   


 

There’s a bang at the door and Jyn explodes into a cloud of fairy dust, her corporeal human form gone. Cassian is covered in gold. His arms once full now empty except for air.   


 

“Cassian!” It is Kay, the farmhand from over the hill. “I need to talk to you! Cassian! Are you in there?”


	3. So this is goodbye?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian is able to break into aristocratic circles, going so far as to meet the princess, but when he gets there, does he still want to achieve the goal he set out to complete? The one where he falls in love and marries the princess?

Jyn fails to notice how her fairy finery has faded, how her hair has grown loose and unravels around her shoulders as she continues to insist on keeping a human form. And Chirrut can only watch when all his and Baze’s previous warnings seem to fall on her deaf ears.

 

“She loves the boy,” Chirrut says to Baze, who flits from bud to bud, looking agitated.

 

“And does he love her?” Baze asks.

 

“She doesn’t think so.”

 

“Then what is she doing persisting as she is?” Baze asks gruffly though he knows very well why she does. “And why does she stay in human form? We have warned her that the longer she stays that way, the more her magic fades. Does she want to become human?" Baze lands on a leaf and folds in his wings. Sniffing with feigned indifference, he asks, "Does she know that she loves him?”

 

“She hasn’t full made the connection yet,” Chirrut says with a sage nod. "I think she is afraid."

 

“Such a stubborn fairy. I should have known better than to give her such an assignment.”

 

“It is as the Force wills it.”

 

“Oh, stop.”

 

Chirrut only laughs.

 

+

 

“I met the princess today,” Cassian tells her, leaning against the wall of his humble home.

 

Jyn’s back is turned to him but she hears the soft thud of his body against the wood. She is scrubbing the mud out of her muslin dress. Her silk gowns have faded into these lighter garments over time, but she finds that she prefers to simpler fabric and how it feels against her skin. 

 

“And how did it go?” she asks, working her hands faster to rub out the stain. “Is she beautiful?”

 

“That’s what they say.”

 

Jyn smirks to herself. “What kind of answer is that?”

 

“Does her beauty matter?”

 

“Has she fallen in love with you yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Cassian says neutrally. “Does that upset you?” 

 

She spins around to face him, and her mouth goes dry at the sight of him. Cassian is still in his finery, his hair brushed back, though his cravat is loose around his neck. His face is calm, but his eyes intense.

 

“We’ll just have to work a little harder then,” she says, gathering herself up. “And then my work here will be done.”

 

“And you’ll be gone?” he asks, stepping into the candlelight, his features set in sharp contrast of light and shadow.

 

“In a cloud of golden fairy dust,” she says, her voice fading. 

 

+

 

“How can you tell?” Jyn asks Chirrut. She feels her wings flutter at her back. They feel foreign to her almost, she has been in human form for so much longer than she has ever been before. 

 

“It’s written all over your skin,” he says.

 

“But you’re blind!”

 

“That does not mean that I can’t see, Jyn.”

 

“But I can’t.” Her heart stutters in her chest. It feels like too human an emotion, but she cannot deny it any longer. “It’s not supposed to happen. It can’t.”

 

“And yet it has. What does that make you think, child?”

 

“That I need to finish what I came to do and then go away forever.”

 

“And you are fine never seeing him again?”

 

"Isn’t that the way it has to be?”

 

“Who are we to say what is to be and what is not?”

 

+

 

“Come here.”

 

Cassian strides obediently toward Jyn, tipping his chin toward his chest. “Yes?” He’s dressed in all his finery, his hair washed and brushed until it shined as bright as his dancing shoes. He smiles at her, the soft, thoughtful smile that he holds in reserve for her.

 

“Let me see you one last time,” Jyn says, moving her hands to make one last adjustment to his cravat. 

 

His smile falters. “Last time?”

 

She nods, avoiding his eyes. The magic has been slipping away from her day by day, and if she couldn’t already feel it in the way her hands shake when she tries a spell she can see it reflected in the looking glass and in the way the sparkle has vanished from her dress and in the way her hair has unspooled in wild waves and curls. She looks and feels more human every day, and though she’s keenly aware of this, of what is happening, she’s stubbornly stayed in that form instead of turning back. Because she’s felt things she’s never felt before. And though it is pain (some of it so much pain), she feels like she is living, and she’s understanding why to be human is to be both cursed and blessed.

 

“Tonight is the night. The goal’s in reach.” She smooths a hand over the buttons on his coat. “And if you accomplish your heart’s one true wish tonight, then my work here is done and I can go home.” Jyn trips on the last word, but she manages a watery smile. 

 

Cassian’s dark eyes search her face, though for what, she cannot say. “What do I do to accomplish my heart’s one true wish, Jyn?”

 

“Don’t you know?”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“True love’s kiss. Or an approximation of it.” She shrugs. “Win over the princess and take your place in the world, the place where you want to be, where you belong.”

 

“Jyn.” He reaches out and takes her hand in his. She pulls it away. “So this is goodbye then?” he asks.

 

Jyn nods, taking in his face, trying to memorize all its angles and curves and the lines carved into his skin. “Do me proud, Cassian, and make sure that all the time we have spent together isn’t wasted.”


	4. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian attends the royal ball and is faced with a choice.

The princess's ball. He's here, just as he wanted when they had started this whole scheme, when magic first found its way into Cassian Andor's life. And for all the beauty of the ballroom, all the silk and gold and candlelight, it feels strange and hollow. He is playing dress-up, he realizes, like a little boy. And he's far too old now for childish games.  


 

Someone clears their throat behind Cassian, and for a split second, for a desperate moment he hopes that it is Jyn, but he remembers that she has no reason to be here. _Midnight_ , she had said, and she would be gone.   


 

“Sir?”

 

  
But it’s not. It’s one of the princess’s ladies in waiting, curtsying deeply when he turns. “Her highness requests the pleasure of her company tonight as her first dance when she arrives.” He nods and the girl scurries off, and what should feel like pleasure, like accomplishment at quickly becoming a favorite or the princess’s, instead like a dull weight on his heart.

 

  
The music of the violins soar around him along with the swish of gowns and the clack of shoes on the dance floor, and he’s here, he thinks, he’s at the pinnacle, and yet he feels nothing but the deepest misery. This isn’t where he’s meant to be.

 

  
He excuses himself from the conversation with Lord Calrissian and goes out into the garden for air.   


 

(“I understand, old chap,” Lando laughs. “An audience with the princess? I’d take a moment to gather my wits about me, too!”)   


 

The grounds of the palace are beautiful and serene, devoid of the pretenses of the rich and powerful, and Cassian walks alone into the hedge maze, lost in thought.   


 

_Work a little harder, Jyn_ had said to him three nights before. _Work a little harder and then my work here will be done._ _   
_

 

There’s a tightness around his throat and Cassian loosens his cravat.   


 

_ And you’ll be gone?   
_

 

_ In a cloud of fairy dust.   
_

 

There’s a rumble behind him then, a shaking of stone and brush, and on instinct Cassian draws out his blade and spins to defend himself. Before him, as though out of thin air, is a large man, imposing and severe and staring him down.   


 

“Who are you?” Cassian grits out, readying himself to strike if needed, but the man only laughs, deep and derisive.   


 

“I’m a friend of Jyn’s, young buck. Put down your weapon.”   


 

Mouth feeling full of ash, Cassian manages, “You’re fairy folk?”   


 

“Is that so odd?”   


 

“You’re just so…”   


 

“Intimidating?”   


 

“Bearded.”   


 

The man laughs and strokes his face, but the humor melts away quickly into a more serious expression. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I am here?”   


 

“Why are you here?” Cassian asks. “What has this got to do with Jyn?”   


 

“I’m Baze, by the way, since you didn’t care to ask. And as for Jyn, I’m here as her friend and as her mentor. I’m here to warn you.”   


 

“Is Jyn alright?” Cassian asks, heart suddenly racing.   


 

Something flickers in Baze’s eyes, and his mouth softens at the edges as he seems to consider his next words. “Her magic is fading. Every day this charade of yours goes on, the faster her magic fades. She can’t keep it up much longer, but she persists. Why? Have you asked yourself that, young man?”   


 

“What’s happening to her?” Cassian thinks of her fading finery. Of her loosening hair. Of her pert mouth, fierce eyes, and the way she prods and teases him. He thinks about waking up and not finding her hovering nearby, and his mind goes black.   


 

“She has until midnight tonight. If you win the princess tonight, then you can save her. Her mission will be complete, and she will be compelled to move on.”   


 

Cassian sheathes his dagger and feels the blood draining from his face. “What happens at midnight? What happens if I don’t win the princess?” Cold fear grips him. “Jyn’s not dying is she?”   


 

“She might as well be. She’s becoming human.”   


 

“Is that so terrible?” he asks, though Cassian knows that the answer, in most cases, is yes.   


 

“What does she have to anchor herself to a human world? Misery? Sadness? Death?”   


 

“Love.” The word is out of Cassian’s mouth before he realizes it, and a great peace washes over him.   


 

Baze lets out another booming laugh. “Make your choice then, Young Andor,” he says, and in a cloud of silver dust, he is gone—and so is Cassian, feet flying to the exit of the palace grounds, to his horse, and back to Jyn before it is too late.

 

 


	5. True Love's Kiss

The clock strikes midnight and they both turn their heads to stare at it, to listen to it chime. The night is dark, and Cassian’s hovel is cast in the faintest candlelight. It’s not much, but this is home. This will always be his home. She is home.

 

  
She is gathered up in his arms, her hands clutching the collar of his velvet coat, and he feels her fingers trace his jaw, tentative. “You pick me?” Jyn asks, her face unsure. The gold of fairy dust sparkles in her loose waves of hair, but he sees it fading away before his eyes. The sixth chime rings, echoing through the house. 

 

  
Cassian leans in and presses his forehead to hers. “You were always the only choice, Jyn. I’m just sorry it took this long for me to realize it.”

 

  
“Then what are you waiting for?” she says, rising on her toes, arms wrapping around his neck. Her lips are soft against his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans in. “Kiss me,” she says as the clock chimes it’s twelfth and final toll, “and make it count.”


	6. The Ceremony

They will talk later of how beautiful the bride was, how the groom was handsome and overcome with love on his face, how the officiant had beamed when he spoke, and how the event seemed touched by some other worldly magic. But there is one thing no one dares speak of again on fear of death: of how the big, bearded man who escorted Jyn down the aisle to meet her future husband walked sobbing with joy, fat tears clinging to his lashes and beard as he kissed her on the forehead and bid farewell to his little sister on her new life.

 

+

 

There is silver on the trees and on the path from the makeshift altar to their home where Baze Malbus’s tears dusted it when he walked Jyn down the aisle to Cassian on this, their wedding day. The moon shines down upon it all, and Jyn says quietly, “The fairies say this is a rare and lucky blessing. Well, Chirrut does, so who knows if it’s true or if he just wants it to be.” Cassian laughs and holds her face, kissing her until they both have to come up for breath.   


 

The guests are gone now and it’s just them, both so human, both so in love, his arms looping around her waist, her hands tangled in his dark waves of hair. Her face is flush pink, but then again, so is his.   


 

“So,” Jyn says, fingers trailing down to his fine brown jacket and to the neck of his white shirt, “our wedding night.”   


 

“I’ve heard stories about it,” he says coyly, placing a kiss on her neck where Jyn’s hair falls in soft waves.    


 

“I’ve heard them, too,” she says, and she has, feeling how desire makes her newly human body feel hot and breathless. “But I’m interested in more than just stories.” Jyn thinks of their fevered kisses from all the days before and shivers with anticipation from the look he gives her now: love and devotion, but hunger, too.   


 

Cassian bends then and sweeps her up into his arms, carrying her down the silver path. “Then what are we waiting for?”


	7. New beginnings

“Why do I feel like you had something to do with this?” Baze bellows from inside the house as Cassian returns from his day of work. A candle burned inside as dusk was settling in over their farm.

 

  
“Jyn?” Cassian called, only to find Baze and Chirrut, their two fairy godfathers, in their kitchen, looking at Jyn who stood at the counter, her hands gripping a knife and a carrot.   
Baze turned and pointed a finger at Cassian. “You!”

 

  
Chirrut laughed. “I had nothing to do with this. But Cassian most certainly did.”

 

  
“What is going on?” Cassian asked. “Jyn?”

 

  
And then she turned from the counter, revealing her large, round belly. “Guess we’re going to be parents.”

 

  
“In about a month at the rate she’s growing,” Baze growled. “Thought it should be nine since she is human now, Chirrut.”

 

  
“I don’t know why you keep blaming me,” Chirrut said with a toothy smile. “I did not do anything. This is a new situation. Maybe some of her magic just hasn’t fully worn off yet.”   
Cassian gaped. “But this morning, you were …”

 

  
“I was not pregnant,” Jyn said, holding her back with one hand. “And now I am.” She bit her lip. “So?”

 

  
Cassian took two, three long steps toward her and gathered her into his arms, kissing her feverishly on the brow. His hand skimmed over belly. “I love you. I love you so much, and we’re going to do great.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Say hello to me on Tumblr at @operaticspacetrash


End file.
